


i let you carve your name all over my insides

by deathsweetqueen



Series: Tony Stark Bingo 2019: Round 2 [7]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Awesome James "Rhodey" Rhodes, Don't Ask Don't Tell, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, Howard Stark's Bad Parenting, Hurt James "Rhodey" Rhodes, Hurt Tony Stark, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Iron Family, James "Rhodey" Rhodes Needs a Hug, M/M, Military Families, Misunderstandings, Nightmares, Parent James "Rhodey" Rhodes, Parent Tony Stark, Parenthood, Peter Parker is James Rhodes' Child, Peter Parker is Tony Stark's Child, Peter Parker is fucking cute, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Tony Stark is Good With Kids, Tony Stark is a good parent, Young Peter Parker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-25
Updated: 2019-04-25
Packaged: 2020-01-31 17:38:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18596179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deathsweetqueen/pseuds/deathsweetqueen
Summary: A warm, hot, heavy palm lands on the curve of his hip and Tony groans into his pillow, clutching at it like a lifeline.A laugh falls in his ears, tickling the hair on the nape of his neck.Tony turns towards the side, eyes blinking open with some struggle, only to centre on dark eyes blinking down at him, a smile curling on Rhodey’s lips.Later on, he’ll deny it to his grave, but he screams, surging up, grappling for Rhodey by the shoulders.“What are you doing here?” he demands. “You weren’t supposed to get back stateside for another two weeks. What are you doing here, Rhodey?”Rhodey laughs. “Things finished up sooner at the base than I thought it would. If you’d rather I come back in two weeks, I could-”Tony silences him with his mouth, dragging Rhodey down on top of him with a yelp, his duffle bag falling onto the floor with a heavy thump.Written for the "tension" square (K2) for the Tony Stark Bingo 2019 and the "don't ask, don't tell" square for the Iron Husbands Bingo 2019.





	i let you carve your name all over my insides

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Tony Stark Bingo 2019 and the Iron Husbands Bingo 2019.
> 
> Warnings: Don't Ask, Don't Tell, realistic military homophobia, PTSD, Rhodey is a soldier and shit happens, military families undergo a lot of stress, okay. 
> 
> The title comes from unravul's poem on Tumblr: https://unravul.tumblr.com/post/108962734947/but-i-was-so-empty-i-let-you-carve-your-name-all.

A warm, hot, heavy palm lands on the curve of his hip and Tony groans into his pillow, clutching at it like a lifeline.

A laugh falls in his ears, tickling the hair on the nape of his neck.

Tony turns towards the side, eyes blinking open with some struggle, only to centre on dark eyes blinking down at him, a smile curling on Rhodey’s lips.

Later on, he’ll deny it to his grave, but he screams, surging up, grappling for Rhodey by the shoulders.

“What are you doing here?” he demands. “You weren’t supposed to get back stateside for another two weeks. What are you doing here, Rhodey?”

Rhodey laughs. “Things finished up sooner at the base than I thought it would. If you’d rather I come back in two weeks, I could-”

Tony silences him with his mouth, dragging Rhodey down on top of him with a yelp, his duffle bag falling onto the floor with a heavy thump.

“Wait,” Rhodey moans, pulling away, balancing himself on his elbows. “Wait. Peter, I should go and see Peter.”

Tony shakes his head, vehemently. “He’ll be sleeping. We were up late watching Rugrats in Paris yesterday; don’t wake him, not yet. Stay here with me.” He kisses him again, scraping his short nails over Rhodey’s scalp, the way he knows his partner likes it.

Rhodey pulls back to give him a withering look. “How late are we talking about?” he asks, sternly.

Tony narrows his eyes. “Are you seriously critiquing my parenting skills while I’m trying to fuck you?”

Rhodey grins. “I was _joking_ ,” he insists.

Tony shakes his head. “You are entirely too much of a wet blanket to be joking,” he points out.

Tony makes a high-pitched keening noise, when Rhodey abruptly grinds down, his hard cock rocking persistently against the dip between Tony’s thigh and pelvic bone. 

“No fair,” Tony gasps.

“Everything’s fair in love and war and sex,” Rhodey grunts, teeth finding the tendon in Tony’s neck and biting down.

“Fuck!”

“Sir?”

Tony blinks up at the ceiling, while Rhodey’s hot tongue flickers out to soothe the sting.

“Yeah, JARVIS?” he asks, absentmindedly, running his hands up and down Rhodey’s firm back, the muscles shifting under his fingers.

“Master Peter has awakened,” JARVIS informs him. “He is on his way to your bedroom. I thought you might like to know.”

Rhodey raises his head, pupils a little blown black. “Thanks, JARVIS.”

“You are very welcome, Master James,” JARVIS says, pleasantly. “And might I say, it is lovely to have you home with us again once more.”

Tony bites down on his lip, as one of Rhodey’s fingers traces the curve of his face, right from his hairline, down to where his eyes crinkle at the corners, over to the sharp curve of his cheekbone, to his lower lip, which Tony bites at playfully, and to his neat beard.

“Yeah, me too,” Rhodey says, roughly, something strange and mournful shadowing his eyes.

“Hey,” Tony murmurs, wrapping his arms around his neck. “Where’d you go?”

Rhodey blinks and his stoic, sad countenance quickly morphs into a wide, white-toothed smile. “Nowhere, I promise.”

“Good,” Tony huffs.

Tony doesn’t like it when Rhodey’s sad, or when Rhodey goes quiet. He remembers that nineteen-year-old he met in Cambridge, whose grins were all teeth, and how much he loved that about him.

He won’t ever let Rhodey settle for anything else but that; it’s the least he deserves, after all.  

When they hear the patter of footsteps scurrying closer, they turn their heads to the door, just in time to see their bedroom door swing open and a little boy stands in the doorway, in footsie pyjamas, air force blue (because Tony had seen them one day shopping with Peter and had bought them in a fit of amusement, making sure to send Rhodey a picture of their boy modelling them).

“Papa, are you awake? It’s time for cartoons,” Peter mumbles, rubbing his hands into his eyes.

“Yeah, just getting up, baby,” Tony calls out, amused.

Peter yawns, stretching his little arms over his head, like he’s seen his fathers do a million times over to crack their backs. Tony has the sudden urge to laugh when Peter’s eyes go comically wide, spotting Rhodey on top of Tony (in hindsight, they probably should have taken JARVIS’ warning as a sign to make themselves G-rated).

“Daddy!” Peter gasps.

Rhodey’s entire face turns into the sappiest thing that Tony has seen since an early rerun of the Brady Bunch.

“Hey, grasshopper,” he says, gently.

“DADDY!” Peter screams and hurtles across the floor to jump onto the bed, landing on Rhodey’s back with a collision that knocks the air out of both Rhodey’s and Tony’s lungs.

Tony wheezes, curling in on himself, and resists the urge to swear out loud.

Rhodey grabs Peter before he can do much more damage to Tony’s respiratory system, rolling off Tony onto his side of the bed and settling Peter on top of him.

“Did you miss me?” Rhodey asks, smoothing back Peter’s dark hair, the same colour as Tony’s, even if he wasn’t theirs, not by blood (he was theirs in every other way, though, and that’s what mattered).

“Uh-huh,” Peter murmurs, laying his head on Rhodey’s chest and huddling in close so he can hear his Daddy’s heartbeat (he’s done it enough times to Tony, under the guise of cuddling, that he can spot it a mile away). “Did you miss me?” He blinks up at Rhodey.

“Of course I did,” Rhodey rumbles. “Nothin’ I missed more than you and your Papa.”

“Are you going away again?” Peter demands, glaring down at Rhodey.

A pang hits him, and he leans over to run his fingers through Peter’s hair. When he looks over, he sees such a defeated, sad look on Rhodey’s face that he has the urge to kiss it away. He sighs, reaching for Peter and lifting him bodily off Rhodey into his arms, one arm under his knees, while Peter throws one of his thin arms around Tony’s shoulder.

“Come on, Petey, time for cartoons, right?”

“Yay! Cartoons!”

Tony laughs and kisses Peter’s cheek once, then twice, then thrice, with a loud smacking sound that makes his boy giggle.

“That tickles, Papa!”

“Kisses are meant to tickle!”

* * *

Once he has Peter in front of the giant television set in the lounge, with a plate of sticky French toast propped up only his lap a little precariously, Tony makes his way back to the bedroom, after a quickly-worded request to JARVIS to keep an eye on Peter – he foresees no big problem; Peter usually goes down like a good little cult member in front of those Saturday morning cartoons.

He finds Rhodey in the shower, humming _Can’t Help But Falling in Love_ under the spray like a total dork. Without making his presence clear, he strips down and slides open the shower door with a slick little click and slips inside.

He wraps his arms around Rhodey’s broad waist, resting his chin on Rhodey’s shoulder blade.

“So, did you miss me?” he asks, coyly.

Rhodey chuckles, his chest vibrating, and he turns around, pulling Tony in close.

“You really think missing you is all I did,” Rhodey murmurs, nuzzling at Tony’s bare throat.

Tony huddles into his unshakeable warmth, as if he’ll fall away if he lets go. “I’ve missed you,” he confesses, staring up at him.

Rhodey’s eyes are soft. “I missed you too, baby.”

“How much?” Tony demands. “How much did you miss me?”

Rhodey backs him into the glass door, arms bracketing him, before lifting him up to wrap his legs around Rhodey’s waist for leverage, settling between his thighs.

“This much,” he says, gruffly, his cock rubbing up against Tony’s thigh, thick and heavy.

Tony smirks. “What, those photos didn’t do it for you?”

Rhodey groans. “Those were… not necessary and you know it.”

“They were so necessary,” Tony declares, confidently. “And you loved them, don’t deny it. Especially the one with the vibrator. I bet you jerked off every night to that one.”

Rhodey flushes. “Maybe,” he admits.

“Cause I looked so good in it, right?” Tony says, knowingly. “Took me a while to get the angle right. I wanted you to be able to see _everything_ ,” he sighs when Rhodey’s chest hair scratches at his nipples. “I wanted you to see how well I took that fake cock, how it slipped inside me so easily, stretched wide around its girth, how much I wished it was you instead, fucking me onto your cock, fucking me stupid until I begged for you to let me come.”

Rhodey blows out a breath between his teeth. “Jesus,” he mutters, sweeping him up into another kiss. “I want-nah, I fucking need to fuck you.”

“Wait, wait,” Tony gasps, as one thigh juts between his legs so he can grind his cock down against that firm muscle. “Wait, I want to suck you off. Then, then, you can fuck me.”

Rhodey tips his back, while Tony climbs off him. “You always have the most fucking brilliant ideas,” he moans, when Tony settles on his knees in front of him, blinking owlishly with those brandy-brown eyes.

Rhodey’s cock curves against his belly and it’s the most beautiful thing Tony’s seen in so long, having only his hand and his toys for company while Rhodey was overseas; so, it doesn’t take him long to wrap his long fingers around the heavy weight and lap at the head of his cock where it peers out between his fingers.

Rhodey grunts, threading his fingers through Tony’s hair and tugging back, as Tony angles his mouth around his cock, tracing the vein beneath the head with the tip of his tongue.

“Fuck, baby, I’ve missed you,” Rhodey rasps, staring down at him, the look in his eyes obscene and relentless. “You’re always so good for me, so eager; you really love my cock, don’t you?”

Tony pulls away with a gasp, giving him a toothy grin. “Can’t live without it, honeybear.”

Rhodey laughs and tugs at his hair. “That’s my boy; now, get back to it. I want to come all over that pretty face.”

Tony whines at that, wriggling about on his knees, rutting shamelessly against Rhodey’s calf.

“You like that, huh?” Rhodey asks, satisfied. “Get back to it, and I’ll deliver, I promise.”

Tony licks his lips before sucking the length of his cock down his throat, his nose nuzzling at the join of Rhodey’s thigh, as he’s fed his cock.

“You look so fucking beautiful like this,” Rhodey pants. “Like this is where you were meant to be, on your knees, while you lick my cock like you’re dying, you beautiful little cocksucker.”

The words make Tony flush and pant and writhe, eyes dilated, and presses at the skin behind Rhodey’s balls, with the flat of his thumb, and Rhodey comes with Tony’s name behind his teeth, the first pulse of come catching him on his lower lip, his cheek, neck, his arm, quickly washed away by the water raining down on them.

Tony throws his arms over his neck, nuzzling at Rhodey’s cheek. “How was that?” he asks, roughly.

Rhodey hums, hands dragging up and down Tony’s sides. “So good, you were so good for me. Fuck, I love you.”

“I love you too, pudding pop,” Tony sighs. “Now, you were going to fuck me or something?”

Rhodey laughs. “Oh, right. I almost forgot.”

Tony hushes him. “Let me do this,” he purrs, leaning in, fisting Rhodey’s cock until it fills in his palm.

He keeps his thighs spread as he works his fingers steadily into himself, delving in deep until he’s stretched all good and proper, his eyes locked onto Rhodey’s, who stares at him, so hungry, so fierce, like he’d eat him up, like he’d fuck him into a puddle on the wet shower floor.

He hooks an ankle over Rhodey’s hip for leverage, tilting his hips out, as Rhodey thrusts, testing the waters. The stretch burns a little at first, dragging the air out of his lungs, his hole dragging at Rhodey’s cock. Rhodey groans, rolling his hips forward, once Tony gives him the thumbs-up, tightening up around Rhodey’s cock, as he pounds into him like he’s on a mission.

He’s stretched full and taut, like he’s about to burst with the feeling of it all, and Rhodey strokes his side, easing in quick and relentless, dragging against his prostate with every thrust.

“You like this, huh? This is what you wanted, right? Me fucking you into a wall, my cock in you, like this is all that gives you purpose, fucking you stupid, being skewered on my cock. Yeah, baby, that’s it. Keep clenching like that around me. I’ll give you want you want, you just lie there and take it.”

Tony mewls, all sweet and desperate and needy. “Yeah, yes, everything you just said. I want everything. Give me everything, honey. Come on.”

“I’ll give you everything,” Rhodey promises.

“Come inside me,” Tony insists. “Fill me up, honey. Give me all your come.”

“I will, I will, _I will_ , I’ll fill you up, the way you like, baby; you’re going to be so full, going to remember you’re mine, always. You’ve always been mine,” Rhodey grunts.

Tony clamps his hands on Rhodey’s cheek, canting his hips up, lacking finesse. “Only yours,” he whispers. “I don’t ever want anyone else.”

“Promise me,” Rhodey demands. “Promise me you won’t find someone else while I’m gone. Promise me you’ll always be mine.”

“Always. Always, always,” Tony moans and he comes like that, head tilted, neck straining, an ugly, visceral orgasm that tears right through him and leaves him a puddle of flesh, blood and bare, cracked bone.

Rhodey chases his own climax with aimless, shallow thrusts, with a grip on Tony’s hips that are sure to leave a mottled canvas of bruises come the next morning, and his orgasm shakes through him, embarrassingly fast, riding out that crash.

Tony’s thighs are wet and messy when his feet land on the wet shower floor, and thankfully, Rhodey is holding him up; otherwise, he’s certain he would have fallen.

Rhodey sighs against his neck, nuzzling. “Fuck, I completely forgot. Peter?”

Tony laughs out. “He’s fine, he’s watching cartoons. JARVIS is keeping an eye on him.”

Rhodey pulls back, frowning. “Is that safe, him alone like that?”

Tony’s brow furrows. “He’s not alone. JARVIS is there. JARVIS is always there,” he points out.

“Yeah, I know, but does JARVIS know all the dangerous things kids get up to when they’re unsupervised.”

Tony scowls. “He’s not _unsupervised_. JARVIS is there,” he says, a little sternly, the buzz fading quickly from his skin.

“JARVIS is an AI. I’m not quite sure he’s an adequate child minder, Tony,” Rhodey says, dryly.

Tony crosses his arms over his chest. “Since when do you say shit like that?” he demands. “You’ve known JARVIS since I first started stringing his lines of code together and you had no problem with him, not even when Peter was a baby and needed considerably more care than he does now. So, what’s the problem?”

“I dunno; maybe, I just don’t think an AI is adequate and responsible supervision for a five-year old when his actual parents are around,” Rhodey retorts.

“Since fucking when?”

“Since I realised all you fucking do here is sleep, eat, shit and tinker in your goddamn workshop. Where’s the fucking child rearing?”

Tony stares at him for a moment, the rage, the hurt, burning in him hot and fast, and his tongue is still, a momentous occasion for him – he doesn’t understand how to answer Rhodey without brains splattering on the ground.

He takes a deep breath, lets it shudder in his lungs.

“I’m not having this conversation with you right now,” he says, flatly. “Get a grip and come down for cartoons, okay.”

He snatches the white, fluffy towel off the railing and scrubs himself down, while Rhodey just stands in the shower that still rains down on him.

He finds his jeans and a cotton shirt to throw over his head and he leaves Rhodey there in the bathroom, while his hands shake at his side, more from hurt than anything else.

Later, Rhodey stumbles down the stairs to join them on the couch, as Peter and Tony watch cartoons on the large-scale television set mounted on the wall. Peter reacts with glee when his father sits down beside him and throws a long arm around his shoulder, pulling the little boy into his side.

Peter cuddles close, and Tony gives them a maudlin look, soft and sweet, because this is what he’s wanted for so long, the three of them together like this. He falters when he catches Rhodey’s gaze, looking down at his lap. He closes his eyes when Rhodey’s fingers edge into his hair, though, and leans into the touch.

They’ll be just fine; he knows it.

* * *

Rhodey wraps his arms around Tony’s waist, pulls him in close, with a hum, his breath rustling the strands of Tony’s hair. Tony sighs and leans into the soft down of the pillow underneath his head.

When he next wakes up, it’s to the sound of mumbling and half-aborted shouts and a body wrestling in the sheets beside him. Tony turns around, dazed and dizzy with sleep, and when he looks, Rhodey lies there, his expression sour like curdled milk, shrinking away from some unseen shadow.

Tony shakes his shoulder.

“Rhodey,” he says, his voice low and rushed. “Rhodey, wake up, honey.”

Rhodey grunts and turns his head, eyes clenched shut.

“Rhodey,” he tries again.

Rhodey comes awake with a fearsome shout and Tony eyes the door nervously, wondering if JARVIS will alert them that Peter is now awake and scrabbling for them. But the warning doesn’t come and Tony settles, reaching for Rhodey, who shrinks away.

Tony’s hand falls into his lap and he squares his shoulders.

“What can I do?”

Rhodey stares at him for a moment, dark eyes almost empty, as if he’s not even really seeing him, before shaking his head, and the moment ends. He climbs off the bed.

“Nothing,” he says, curtly. “Nothing.”

He strides off into the bathroom and Tony hears the water running once the light comes on.

Tony sighs and turns back the sheets, sliding out of bed. He follows Rhodey into the bathroom, finds him bent over the sink, face still dripping water. He presses a hand to his spine and swears he can feel Rhodey’s heart beating under all that bone and skin and flesh.

“Did you have a nightmare?” he asks, uncertainly.

Rhodey nods, stoically – he’s never been one to share his hurts easily; Tony’s always dragged them out of him.

“Do you… do you want to talk about it?” Tony wonders out loud.

Rhodey rounds on him, quelling him with a single look, and Tony’s hand falls lamely to his side.

“No, Tony, I don’t want to fucking talk about it, okay.”

Tony swallows compulsively. “Fair enough. I want to help, though. How can I help?”

“You really can’t, so stop,” Rhodey snaps.

Tony shrinks away from his anger, threading his fingers together in front of him. “Okay, fine. Can I do anything?”

“No.”

“Okay,” Tony says, slowly. He takes a deep breath, and starts babbling, because maybe, just maybe, Rhodey needs a distraction, maybe Rhodey needs something else to focus on that isn’t whatever dark threats reared their ugly heads when Rhodey closed his eyes. “So, Peter took apart one of his robots the other day,” he offers.

Rhodey snorts. “How many pieces?”

“Like fifty-two. It was pretty cool,” Tony concedes. “I think he might be getting into his engineering phase. I’ve started letting him play around in the workshop and-”

“Wait,” Rhodey says, his tone cutting through the air. “You let Peter play around in his workshop.”

“Yes,” Tony says, slowly, cocking his head.

“Tony, he’s four.”

“He’s four and incredibly intelligent,” Tony corrects.

“Still, I don’t think it’s a good idea to let our four-year-old son run around your workshop. He could get hurt!” Rhodey points out.

“I’m there and JARVIS is there and the bots are there. Nothing’s going to happen to him,” Tony soothes.

“Again, I question your use of an artificial intelligence as a substitute parent,” Rhodey scoffs.

Tony’s nerves dry up in rage in a moment.

“Well, maybe I wouldn’t need a substitute parent if I wasn’t a single parent 98.7% of the time,” he retorts, shooting Rhodey a baleful look.

Rhodey recoils from the words. “That’s not fair,” he grits out.

Tony cocks a brow. “It isn’t? Because you’ve been making cracks about my parenting skills since you got home, but the second I point out that I’ve had to make some atypical parenting choices because my partner, my lover, my fucking husband is never here, you get all defensive.” He leans forward, his mouth twisting. “Am I hitting a nerve, baby?”

Rhodey gives him such a look of scorn and shakes his head. “Fuck, you never change, do you? You’re still the class-a brutal bitch you were at MIT.”

Tony shrugs, almost spitefully. “You married me, baby. I didn’t force you into anything.”

“I thought you’d be more responsible than this,” Rhodey says, scathingly.

Tony crosses his arms over his chest. “And how am I being irresponsible, exactly?”

“I know you were raised by a cunt, but I didn’t think you’d fucking repeat his godawful behaviour,” Rhodey snaps. “Maybe in your world, it’s normal to be raised by a butler, but where I come from, dads actually put in the fucking time and work.”

Tony reels back at such a casual, vicious mention of his abusive father, whom Rhodey had denigrated in various and many ways over the years, but never compared him to the man at all and so harshly at that.

His eyes cloud and sting, and he turns his head, because some lessons are haven’t untangled themselves from him yet (Howard was good at that) – weakness is not allowed, not even in front of Rhodey, who loves him so much and who is so loved by him.

“If you think I would do anything to Peter that Howard did to me, you don’t know me at all. Considering we’ve been together for so many years, considering we have a son together, that’s fucked up, Rhodey,” Tony growls.

“Then, why is it that JARVIS seems to be taking care of Peter way more than you do?” Rhodey flings at him, dark brows knitted together, jaw set in stone.

“You know shit all about what goes on here,” Tony barks. “You’ve been here a couple of hours and what, you think you’ve got the picture? I hate to break it you, but it’s not all air force pyjamas and photos of me shoving a vibrator up my arse so you can jerk off.”

Rhodey shakes his head, incredulously. “You are incapable of accepting even a little bit of responsibility for your actions, are you?”

“What did I do wrong?” Tony cries out, hands quivering like a leaf. “What is _so_ wrong with how I take care of Peter that you’re only noticing right now? You’ve been perfectly okay with leaving him alone with me the last four years, and now you’re questioning the decision we made together as a family? I’m calling bullshit.”

“I just think you should be more involved in Peter’s life without having JARVIS take up your slack. You can’t pass him off to your AI or to your bots when you decide you’ve got something more important to deal with, okay,” Rhodey blusters, clearly struggling for words.

It hits Tony that maybe this fight isn’t a fight at all; maybe this fight isn’t about Peter or Tony’s parenting methods or Rhodey’s disapproval at all; maybe this is a fight about something else entirely, but words hurt and Tony’s hurt and he’s always willing to see a fight through to its bitter end – if he falters now, he’ll be weak.

“There is no slack, there is no passing off, there is nothing more important to me than my son,” Tony says, coldly. “And for you to say that, you, of all people, to say that to me, it’s fucking ridiculous and I’m not doing this, okay?”

“What d’you mean, me, of all people?” Rhodey demands. “I’m his father too, Tony!”

“Yeah, a father that can’t even put himself on his son’s birth certificate-”

“You know, you _know_ the situation we’re in,” Rhodey hisses. “You’ve known the whole time-”

“Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell can’t fucking save you every fucking time we have a fight, Rhodey-”

“I can’t help the law, Tony!”

“But you still feel the need to question how I take care of our son?”

“I’m concerned; I have a right to be concerned!”

“You’re not _here_ , Rhodey!” Tony shouts, and all that satisfaction, all that delirious joy he’d felt when he’d opened his eyes that morning and seen Rhodey’s dark ones, black as stone, staring down at him, soured (it’s _exhausting_ ). “You don’t get to judge me for the decisions I make without you, because _you’re not here_!”

“It’s not like I’m not here because I don’t _want_ to be!” Rhodey shouts back.

“Then, why are you giving me so much shit over this?” Tony demands, the colour leached out of his face. “Rhodey, I love you and I love you what you do and I have always supported you in what you do-”

“I know that,” Rhodey insists, low and halting.

Tony barrels on. “And yeah, you know what, it fucking means I give up shit for you, just like I imagine you gave up shit when you decided you wanted to be with me. And I love our kid, Rhodey,” he says, fiercely. “I love him so much that sometimes I don’t think I can breathe with how much I love him. And you know that, you fucking _know_ that. So, it’s not fair for you to look at me now, after all these years, after leaving me alone all these years with a kid to look after, because some stupid fucking policy says you can’t be with me or with Peter out in the sun, and _question_ , hell, fucking _challenge_ how I raise my kid.”

“ _Our_ kid,” Rhodey corrects, quietly, giving him a soft, achingly sad look.

“Yeah, our kid. Our kid, who _loves_ JARVIS, who loves the bots, all those _things_ you suddenly look down on now, even though you were willing to rely on them for the past four years.” Tony lets out an angry sigh that threatens to topple him over. “I love you, Rhodey, and you love me, and it’s not my fault and it’s not your fault about Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell, and I have never blamed you for it. But don’t use it as an excuse, okay, don’t pretend like my _parenting_ is the reason why you’re getting pissed off at me right now.”

Rhodey shakes his head, his eyes clenched shut, his face crumpling with sheer exhaustion and misery. “Tony, Tony, I can’t…” he cuts himself off, gaze falling down to the empty marble sink.

Tony takes a step forward and wraps his arms, still as thin as toothpicks as he was a child, around Rhodey’s lean waist, chin resting on his shoulder blade. He turns his head, and then his cheek slants against his spinal column, and yes, that is Rhodey’s heart pounding against his lungs.

“I love you,” he murmurs, the anger hurtling out of him like a tidal wave. “I love you always, no matter what kind of fights we have. I love you.”

Rhodey’s large hands come to cover where Tony’s are clasped over his stomach, and he squeezes.

“I love you too,” he mumbles, thickly. “I love you so much, you know. You and Peter, you’re… you’re all I think about when I’m over there.”

Tony licks his lips. “I know, I know, honey. You’re all I think about when I’m here too.”

“The nightmare was shit,” Rhodey says, roughly.

“I can imagine.”

“I don’t… I don’t want to talk about it.” Rhodey sucks in air. “Not because I don’t want to talk about it with you, but because… if I talk about it…”

“It becomes real,” Tony finishes, dully.

“Yeah.”

“You don’t always have to be the strong one for us, you know. I can be strong too,” Tony says, stubbornly.

Rhodey chuckles, thickly, and turns around in Tony’s hold. “You’re always strong, dumbo. I don’t… I don’t know anyone’s stronger than you.” He smooths back Tony’s hair. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean… _shit_ ,” he sighs.

“S’okay,” Tony mumbles into Rhodey’s chest. “I love you.”

Rhodey kisses the top of his head, over the mess of his dark hair. “I love you too.”

“But if you ever question my parenting skills again, I will smack you.”

Rhodey laughs. “Yeah, yeah, okay. Totally fair.”

“Totally fair,” Tony agrees with a hum. “I love you.”

“You just gonna keep repeating that,” Rhodey jokes, swaying them back and forth.

“Yeah, I think I am.” Tony softens, reaching up to smooth a thumb over his cheekbone. “I think you forget sometimes. I don’t want you to ever forget. Our fights are nothing compared to how much I love you.”

“Wow, Stark,” Rhodey chuckles. “Never thought you were so romantic.”

“Fuck off.” Tony scowls. “I am so fucking romantic.”

Rhodey presses a big, smacking kiss to his cheek. “Yeah, you are,” he says, fondly. He lifts Tony up into his arms, letting him wrap his legs around Rhodey’s slim hips.

“I love how you do that, carry me, I mean,” Tony says, breathlessly, as he’s carried from the bathroom to the bed.

Rhodey waggles his eyebrows. “I know you do,” he says, smugly, laying Tony out onto the bed.

Rhodey leans down to kiss him, but Tony covers his mouth with a cupped palm, his wide, brandy-brown eyes as big and round as the moon.

“I would so have sex with you in a heartbeat; you know it’s my favourite hobby, but you just had, I’m guessing, a pretty fucked-up nightmare, and we just got into a major fight; I don’t think it’s good for us to be having sex right now,” he says, in a rush like he’s about to vomit.

Rhodey beams down at him like a boy in love. “You take care of me.”

“I do,” Tony agrees, shyly. “Like I take care of Peter, like you take care of us. It’s what we do here.”

“Sir,” JARVIS chimes in. “It appears Master Peter is awake and is requiring your comfort.”

Tony sighs. “No rest for the wicked.” He pats Rhodey on the shoulder. “Get off me, before our son decides to come looking for us.”

Rhodey crawls off him, stretching. “Just Tony, JARVIS, not me?”

“I was not given any further instructions, Colonel Honeybear,” JARVIS says, primly.

Tony starts laughing when he finds the discontented look on Rhodey’s face.

“It’s your own fault,” he says, hands outstretched in surrender, when Rhodey turns his glower on him. “You made an enemy of Skynet. You’re doomed, baby.”

“Fuck off,” Rhodey grumbles, rolling off the bed, just as Tony throws a shirt over his head and makes for the door.

“Papa! Papa, I’m scared! Hurry up!” they hear from down the corridor.

Rhodey rolls his eyes. “Impatient.” He eyes Tony. “Your son,” he declares.

“Excuse you!” Tony squawks. “Where’d you get that from?”

Rhodey raises an eyebrow. “I’ve literally known you since you were fourteen. Who else is an expert?”

“What, and you’re bad-habit-free all of a sudden?” Tony demands.

“Have you seen Peter copying _me_ recently?” Rhodey asks, smugly.

“He was cracking his knuckles in front of cartoons this morning. I wonder who he could be imitating?” Tony mocks.

Rhodey rubs his hand over his face, skin flushing hot. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Tony laughs, loud and full. “Yeah, I’m sure. It’s okay; you can live in your delusion as long as you need to, but I wouldn’t linger too long – our progeny awaits, and he’s impatient, which apparently is a negative character trait of mine. Who knew it?” he sighs, innocently.

Rhodey pinches the bridge of his nose. “You’re not going to let that go, are you?” he says, resigned.

Tony turns around to give him a look as golden as sunshine, like Rhodey is everything he’s ever wanted or will ever want (and once, it was the truest thing he knew; it still is, but he would give up everything and anything for Peter, and Rhodey knows that, Rhodey would too, and he only loves his husband so much more because of that, for cutting out one more sliver in his big, red, beating heart for their beautiful son, just as Tony had done).

“Nope,” he pops the last syllable, cheerfully. “This is where the bloodletting begins.”

“Joy,” Rhodey sighs.

“Papa, where _are_ you? Hurry up!”


End file.
